Marriage's Surgery

Abad, Glory
29 March 2010
RD 3

Marriage’s Surgery

Filipino families are known for being very strict, especially when their reputation is on the line. Since my father was a minister, the steps toward adulthood through traditional Christian values was sternly enforced. My parents strongly believed that a couple should be united as one in Christ through marriage before having a baby. When I delivered the bitter sweet news that they were going to be grandparents again, my boyfriend (back then) and I were to be married as soon as high school graduation was over. [THESIS] The early journey into marriage that I set out on has transformed me into a mature and strong-minded woman from the many obstacles that my husband and I encountered. [THESIS]

After being married for two years, my husband breaks to me the devastating news...he wants to get a legal separation because he is having an affair with his co-worker. Those words, “I am fooling around,” felt like a dagger penetrating my chest and through my heart making it stop beating for a minute. I was only 19 years old, with a 24 month old daughter, and heading towards being a statistic for the ever growing divorce rate. His whole point in getting a legal separation was for him to “explore” what’s out there since we jumped into marriage really quick and he wasn’t sure if I was the “right one.” If he didn’t find this treasure on this adventure that he wanted to embark on, he would come running back to me. I constantly blamed myself for my husband’s infidelity. I thought it was because of the lack of time that I had for my family since I was always with my mother. She needed me the most because she was a new widow after the passing of my father. Most of my time was spent helping her at their church, that my father left behind, with the many activities that they have.

This gash on my chest hasn’t even started healing, yet this man that I love who punctured my dignity stick his hands into this wound, pulls out my heart, and crushes into a million pieces by telling me that his mistress is pregnant with his baby. This was totally the end of our marriage because I assumed he found that treasure he’s been longing for and wanted to be on this adventure forever. I hired an off duty Sheriff to hand him the divorce papers personally. I guess this life changing document hit him hard and made him come to his senses. He realized that the treasure he’s been searching for was right there all along. Stitching up my injury and putting a band aid over it wasn’t going to be enough; this relationship was in need of a major surgery. We both went to a psychologist for marriage counseling to repair the damages that was done.

First was the anesthesia, I had to forgive him for his shortcomings. If I didn’t go through the numbness, this procedure could hurt more than it already did. The numbing part kicked in after a while because forgiveness didn’t come easy. I had to forgive this girl who did me wrong that I’ve never even met (till this day). Especially since she decided to keep my husband’s baby. Next was the incision, which is actually a key element for this surgery to work out, open communication. My husband and I had to learn how to communicate effectively without bringing up our faults. This was very difficult because I had to be honest with myself and tell him how I really felt not having to blame him for the grief that he caused me.

Going in through the incision to fix the problem was the process of regaining trust. He decided to bring me wherever he went, checked in with me on his way to work and back, cut off all ties with that girl, changed his phone number, and was even willing to relocate to another state; anything to earn my trust. Closing up the cut to start the healing stage was spending more family quality time together. This didn’t mean that our friends were erased from the picture, we just decided to set a day with no distractions, just our time spent with our family alone. Helping my mother wasn’t a top priority anymore. She understood my situation, so my time with her was when he was with his friends. The recovery period is improving our lives to have a better future for our family. We have set goals and dreams that we are slowly turning into reality. Although our past haunts us like an unearthed spirit, we will prove to family members and friends who have judged us that we have buried this issue and moved on.

When I am at the intersection of present with past (if my husband and I get into a major argument), I remind myself that that’s nothing compared to what we’ve already been through. This experience has taught me that I can never change a person because it is up to that certain individual to change. I can only be an influence by being a better person so that they can see the difference if they were to do the same. I have also reached a different level of maturity compared to others of my age because I can reflect on my life’s history and apply it to other people if they need help. Marrying at a young age and surviving a stormy marriage has shaped me into the woman that I am today. I know what I want out of life, so I continually strive harder each time I face a similar difficulty. Every time I reach that same intersection, I hold onto my husband’s hand like a child does to its parent before crossing a busy crosswalk, and remember that we are in it together.

Abad, Glory
11 March 2010
FD2

Pastor Jaime Castro Manera, Sr.

When I was a little girl, I always wondered why so many people knew my dad and why they would question me, “Oh! You’re Pastor Manera’s youngest daughter?!” These people would treat me like I’m some kind of princess, but I’ll admit, it felt good back then. My dad was a well respected person and always spoke highly about his family. As I grew older and realized what my dad did for a living and who he was, I started to get a little embarrassed because people had high expectations for me since I am the “Pastor’s daughter.” It seems like I had to be the perfect daughter since some church members told their kids that I was an example to follow as a Christian child. [THESIS] I try to fit myself into the mold that my father’s life has created so that my life will form into a shape that will have an influence on others as well. [THESIS]

My dad, Jaime Castro Manera, Sr. was a Pastor and a humble follower of God. This short Filipino man always had a smile on his face that you would wonder if he was ever the type to get mad. I’ve seen him angry at his children for not listening, but never with other people. He always kept this calm demeanor because many people looked up to him. He was a role model and a leader. Although he had a monotone voice, it was soothing knowing that he spoke with wisdom. He used to say that his wisdom is seen by the grayish colored set of hairs that he had on his head. I didn’t see the use of plucking out the white hairs when he asked me to since they were all gray anyway.

He had a faith so huge that he entrusted God with everything. In times of happiness or sadness, he knew that this higher force was in control. He always said that with God, anything is possible and there was a plan behind every situation. Even with his health, he didn’t have a primary care physician because he believed his doctor was God. If he had symptoms of a cold, he would boil some water and ginger and drink that as his remedy. He claimed he was healthy even though he had this belly of an 8-month pregnant woman. My nephews would imitate him by putting a pillow under their shirt, but my dad would just make a joke of it and smash them with his tummy. My dad would find ways to make us laugh, but did it with a clean sense of humor because he really cared about how other people felt. I’ve never known of a time where he hurt someone’s feelings. He would even say sorry to other people even though he didn’t do anything wrong.

He was just a little over 5 feet tall, but had a heart of a giant. He went out of his way to help others and sometimes put his family aside to do that. He knew that we would understand his motives in helping people and wouldn’t get mad at him. To my dad, helping people made others see that he was a devout follower of God. He did anything to show that he had Christ in his heart. If we had a bible study on a school night and it was really late, he would still offer a ride to those who need it no matter how far they lived. It was hard to get mad at him for being nice, but when he was late (almost an hour) to pick me up from school and used the excuse “I’m sorry I’m late because I had to bring Nana and Tata Porlucas to their interview for their citizenship,” he always found a way to make it up to me. He would either bring me to McDonald’s or to a store of my choice and buy me something nice.

I couldn’t understand why he had so much patience helping others. If I had to drive someone around for a day, but they weren’t there at the time they said they were going to be there, I would just leave. My father never complained one bit. In fact, he used that time waiting to meet new people by starting up a simple conversation, “Hi! Are you Filipino? Oh what part of the Philippines are you from?” That conversation would eventually lead to an invitation from my dad to attend church the following Sunday. His vibrant character was hard to resist and was nothing compared to those regular Saturday morning door to door Jehovah’s Witnesses. Although he had this huge scary looking mole on his right cheekbone, the way he smiled made his flat fat nose flare which made him look like a familiar family friend instead of any other stranger.

No matter how much he had, he was willing to share or sometimes give it all away. If he had a plate lunch, but was bombarded by an unexpected friend visiting, he would offer his food even if it was only a little left. There were times where my dad just gave his food away and was left with an empty stomach, but a huge smile on his face to see that someone else was satisfied. Although my family’s income was mainly dependent on my mother’s since my dad didn’t make that much as a full time minister, he was still very giving. Nothing was too little for him to share with others. If he didn’t have money for lunch, he would pop open a can of Spam, put it in the microwave, and add some tomatoes. He lived an ordinary life, but managed to make remarkable differences.

When my father died in 2002, I felt like I lost a big piece of my life. The number of people that came to pay their last respects goes to show that my father, the pastor played many roles in these people’s lives. He inspired me to be a better person by sharing the message of hope and practicing it, and enforced the value of putting God first in everything that I do. My dad’s immense faith, spirit of serving others, and huge generosity made his life into a model that I want to follow. This model will help me to be successful in my career pathway that I am on right now.

Log of Completed Activities
__X_ Feb 9t – Intro to paper #2: Portraits (Confirmation reply required.)
Feb 15M: Holiday: Presidents’ Day
__X_ Feb 12F- Laulima Discussion: Portraits by Lee and Simic.
__X_ Feb 16t- Complete readings – all of chap. 13. Optional: “Cucarachas” by Madeline Sonik (Confirmation reply required.)
__X_ Feb 19F- Laulima Discussion: Portraits by Steinbach and Toth.
__L_ Feb 26F- Laulima Posting: Sample from Your Portrait.
__X_ Mar 1M- RD2 due [50 pts] Review the guidelines. (Confirmation reply required.)
__X_ Mar 4T- RD2 Evaluations due [50 pts] Review the guidelines. (Confirmation reply required.)
Mar 5F- No classes.
__X_ Mar 8M- FD2 due [125 pts] Review the guidelines. (Confirmation reply required.)

Pastor Jaime Castro Manera, Sr.

Abad, Glory
01 March 2010
RD2

Pastor Jaime Castro Manera, Sr.

When I was a little girl, I always wondered why so many people knew my dad and why they would question me, “Oh! You’re Pastor Manera’s youngest daughter?!” These people would treat me like I’m some kind of princess, but I’ll admit, it felt good back then. My dad was a well respected person and always spoke highly about his family. As I grew older and realized what my dad did for a living and who he was, I started to get a little embarrassed because people had high expectations for me since I am the “Pastor’s daughter.” It seems like I had to be the perfect daughter since some church members told their kids that I was an example to follow as a Christian child. [THESIS] I try to fit myself into the mold that my father’s life has created so that my life will form into a shape that will have an affect on others as well. [THESIS]

My dad, Jaime Castro Manera, Sr. was a Pastor and a humble follower of God. This short Filipino man always had a smile on his face that you would wonder if he was ever the type to get mad. I’ve seen him angry at his children for not listening, but never with other people. He always kept this calm demeanor because many people looked up to him. He was a role model and a leader. Although he had a monotone voice, it was soothing knowing that he spoke with wisdom. He used to say that his wisdom is seen by the grayish colored set of hairs that he had on his head. I didn’t see the use of plucking out the white hairs when he asked me to since they were all gray anyway.

He had a faith so huge that he entrusted God with everything. In times of happiness or sadness, he knew that this higher force was in control. He always said that with God, anything is possible and there was a plan behind every situation. Even with his health, he didn’t have a primary care physician because he believed his doctor was God. If he had symptoms of a cold, he would boil some water and ginger and drink that as his remedy. He claimed he was healthy even though he had this belly of an 8-month pregnant woman. My nephews would imitate him by putting a pillow under their shirt, but my dad would just make a joke of it and smash them with his tummy. My dad would find ways to make us laugh, but did it with a clean sense of humor because he really cared about how other people felt. I’ve never known of a time where he hurt someone’s feelings.

He was just a little over 5 feet tall, but had a heart of a giant. He went out of his way to help others and sometimes put his family aside to do that. He knew that we would understand his motives in helping people. To him, helping people made others see that he was a devout follower of God. He did anything to show that he had Christ in his heart. If we had a bible study on a school night and it was really late, he would still offer a ride to those who need it no matter how far they lived. It was hard to get mad at him for being nice, but when he was late (almost an hour) to pick me up from school and used the excuse “I’m sorry I’m late because I had to bring Nana and Tata Porlucas to their interview for their citizenship,” he always found a way to make it up to me. He would either bring me to McDonald’s or to a store of my choice and buy me something nice.

I couldn’t understand why he had so much patience helping others. If I had to drive someone around for a day, but they weren’t there at the time they said they were going to be there, I would just leave. My father never complained one bit. In fact, he used that time waiting to meet new people by starting up a simple conversation, “Hi! Are you Filipino? Oh what part of the Philippines are you from?” That conversation would eventually lead to an invitation from my dad to attend church the following Sunday. His vibrant character was hard to resist and was nothing compared to those regular Saturday morning door to door Jehovah’s Witnesses. The way he smiled made his flat fat nose flare which made him look like a familiar family friend instead of any other stranger.

No matter how much he had, he was willing to share or sometimes give it all away. If he had a plate lunch, but was bombarded by an unexpected friend visiting, he would offer his food even if it was only a little left. There were times where my dad just gave his food away and was left with an empty stomach, but a huge smile on his face to see that someone else was satisfied. Although my family’s income was mainly dependent on my mother’s since my dad didn’t make that much as a full time minister, he was still very giving. Nothing was too little for him to share with others. If he didn’t have money for lunch, he would pop open a can of Spam, put it in the microwave, and add some tomatoes. He lived an ordinary life, but managed to make remarkable differences.

When my father died in 2002, I felt like I lost a big piece of my life. The number of people that came to pay their last respects goes to show that my father, the pastor played many roles in these people’s lives. He inspired me to be a better person by sharing the message of hope and practicing it, and enforced the value of putting God first in everything that I do. My dad’s immense faith, spirit of serving others, and huge generosity made his life into a model that I want to follow. This model will help me to be successful in my career pathway that I am on right now.